The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful

Hi all. It’s Shelly. I’m supposed to write this post, but as I’m already proficient at self-aggrandizement, I talked DWD into taking this one for the practice. He only agreed if we can call it “public enthusiasm”. I told him to look up “denial” and “narcissism”.

Thanks, Shelly. Uncomfortably insightful as always.

In February I was a panelist at Life, the Universe, and Everything sci-fi and fantasy symposium. I attend each year to learn the fiction industry, to share with other authors what gross and geeky medical stuff I know, and to meet new people who love the speculative art and fiction scene.

This year, I met with a publication group who serialize novels online, then release them as paperbacks, ebooks, and audiobooks. Big World Network. They liked my stuff, I liked them, so I signed on. Coming in May, Houses of Common will be available in weekly episodes, both text and audio, narrated by the author, complete with foreign accents! Six months after a 12-week season, the episodes will be compiled and available for purchase. Until then, the ebook is still up on Amazon. As if that wasn’t enough good, I’m also putting up a soundtrack tab on this blog, an unofficial playlist of what’s in my head as I write. A theme song for each character, if you will.

Now for the bad. I’ll be narrating Houses of Common for Big World Network, but won’t be doing any new writing until July. I’ve been a physician assistant for six years now, and the time has come to take my re-certification exam. Pass a test, keep my job. No pressure. Short-term bad with a good outcome. But wait, there’s more bad! The Houses of Common sequel, Meaner Sort, was originally scheduled for release in April, but aligning calendars with everyone in the project means it’s now going to be late May. Bad, but not too bad, because Chris Miller’s editing skills are fantastic and well worth the wait. He works with Angela Eschler at Eschler Editing, an amazing group if any of you are authors looking for an editor. Angela also got me in contact with Steven Novak who did the cover of Houses of Common.

Which brings me to the beautiful. Steven also did the cover for Meaner Sort. Wanna see it? Here it is!

 

That’s the news. Except for a little more good. 

So far, my studying has been mostly listening to lectures while running and biking instead of sitting at a desk. Why? Because I have a grudge match with a certain Ironman triathlon in June. This time I’ll have the Link rescuing Zelda ending instead of the Anne Shirley tragedy. Or maybe the Tony Stark finish, complete with Black Sabbath playing in the background.

Ironman and Anne girl

Here’s the race report of my first Ironman Triathlon. Unfortunately, it was an attempt rather than a triumph.

The average time for this particular race was 13 hours last year. This was triathlon number nine for me, but my first Ironman. I figured average was a good goal, so that's what I was training toward, and the numbers were looking good for eleven months straight.

It was an exciting morning with 2400 other entrants. Lots of hot bikes and intense faces. I only fit in the second category, but I'm not complaining. My bike, Pinky, was given to me by a neighbor when my old road bike (circa 1982) became unreliable. It's at least a four year upgrade. And yes, when I'm on the bike you can call me the Brain.

I lined up quite far back for the start, as I was worried about being caught in a piranha frenzy of swimmers. About 13 minutes after the race start, I hit the water. Just before that, the wind picked up and I was swimming into two-foot waves which were frequently whitecaps. In spite of that, I did well, and got out after two hours. Never swam 2.4 miles before! Problem was, I was shaking so badly from hypothermia (lake temperature was about 58 degrees) I couldn’t speak well or get my wet suit off. They sent me into the warming tent, and in my stupor, I lost track of time and stayed 30 minutes.

Once warmed, I got on my bike and rode 56 miles of rolling uphill road, and into the wind. Coming back down was super fast though, and I was just short of my 15mph average I needed to finish the whole race in 13 hours. As I finished lap one, I ran into the problem.

At the pre-race meeting, we’d all been warned of the cut off spots on the course. Listening to where they were and what the time was, I wasn’t worried. But 1:30 pm at the start of bike lap two was one such cut, and I got there at 1:35.

Stupid hypothermia.

I spent almost a year preparing for this, and one stupid strategic error screwed it all up. But what makes me feel okay about it is going to that tent was only one stupid strategic error. My swim time was good despite the wind. After 56 miles on the bike, I couldn’t tell a difference in my legs from when I started. I had trained sufficiently to get the job done. Now I just have to wait until next year to do the rest. It would be dishonest to say I wasn’t furious and depressed when the race official took my timing chip. That felt like pulling off an extra-sticky bandage when the wound underneath hasn't healed yet. But I progressed rapidly to determination. Progressed fast enough no one witnessed my initial reaction.

Next month is an Olympic triathlon in the same lake and some of the same ride. I did it last year and had my best time ever. This year, I’m taking off another ten percent. First two workouts to that end are already done.

During the race, I got to ride next to the female champion for a while, the same Canadian woman who won last year. We rode together for about eight, maybe nine seconds while she lapped me.

Speaking of Canada, and Tuesday being Canada Day, here’s another way to look at my situation. Specifically from the perspective of one Anne Shirley. She would have loved this outcome far more than what I had planned. The tragedy! How romantical! I can imagine her imagination running away with the possibilities. Such a close shave with accomplishing something heroic! Makes me want to take some ipecac to help with a croupy cough and lie down in a leaky boat in that choppy freezing lake. It's as if some uncaring authority figure told me I can't hang around with my best friend Diana for a while. Yeah, that’s a good story. L.M. Montgomery would approve.